29 Days
by FerinHite0
Summary: A lot can happen in the month between Valentine's and White Day, especially if it's a leap year...A slow burn for all hearts, including a new addition to the Bleach universe.
1. Chapter 1

DAY 0

7:16 AM

_What people tend to forget is that there's more out there than they know._

"God damn this day."

This was followed by a smothered explosion.

"Really, Kurosaki."

"What?"

"…uncalled for, man."

"Wha…where do you get off saying that?"

"He's a man! A true man, swayed by the tides of love that flow on this very day!"

"Or, he could be just trying to keep you from hurting Ichigo's fist with your face."

A brief quiet could be heard.

"Point taken."

An eavesdropper with no knowledge of the group speaking, nor with any means of seeing the situation, might have been confused by the result. In contrast, the two eavesdroppers outside the van had a fair idea of what had occurred, and were stifling laughs in order not to be caught. Trying, and not being altogether successful; although they could not be heard through the van's wall, small snorts escaped their hands and their bodies shook violently.

Clearing tears from her eyes, Tatsuki Arisawa grinned at her friend. "Who knew that Chad was such a softie?"

Orihime Inoue looked confused and full of mirth at the same time, a feat that would doubtlessly be impossible for anyone else. "How is he soft? I was laughing at Asano-san!"

Tatsuki stared and shook her head. "You're too easily amused, Orihime."

Before Orihime could respond, the van shuddered. The two girls barely had time to straighten up and step back before it opened, and a host of male bodies tumbled out. Amidst the pounding of fists, Tatsuki called out, "Isn't targeting Keigo overkill?"

Ichigo Kurosaki paused, with one hand holding Keigo's shirtfront and the other cocked in a fist, and turned to look at Tatsuki with his trademark scowl. "Hey, he started it."

Tatsuki snorted. "Right, and so it was your job to finish it…" Her gaze moved on. "…and Uryu's job to finish you…and Chad's job to finish him…Just what the hell happened?"

Mizuiro Kojima spoke up from the backseat of the van. "Totally Keigo's fault."

"Is not!" Keigo Asano's wounded cry was at odds with the enraged look on his face. "This idiot doesn't get it!"

"What did you just call me?"

"Did I stutter?"

"All right, that's it!"

"Oh, no, you don't."

"Back off!"

"Boys, boys, BOYS!" Tatsuki sighed as, once again, the four-way fight paused and all participants turned to look at her. "Look, why don't we just take it from the beginning?" She cut off the flood of babble that reached her. "Mizuiro?"

"Gladly."

What had happened was this. Keigo, being his usual self, was harping on about the joys of Valentine's Day to all that weren't wise enough to cover their ears. At some point, he'd stopped for air, because Ichigo was able to slip a word in edgewise about how the holiday was overrated. At that point, Keigo became background noise as Uryu tried to convince Ichigo to rescind his comment, while Chad tried to convince Keigo that throttling Ichigo wasn't going to solve anything. When Ichigo added his two cents (that he thought was under his breath), Keigo finally snapped and attacked. Ichigo, naturally, used the best defense, which was a good offense. Uryu jumped in to stop Ichigo, and Chad saw it as his responsibility to stop Uryu. Thus, the van-shaking brawl had ensued.

Tatsuki shook her head in amazement. "The saddest part is, it's too easy to believe that."

Ichigo's scowl deepened. "Come on, you heard Mizuiro. Keigo started it."

"You provoked me! How could you possibly say such a thing?"

For the first time, Chad spoke up. "He's got a point. You really need to watch what you say."

Tatsuki stifled another giggle.

Mizuiro sighed and looked up from his cell phone. "Look, can't we argue later? If I remember right, they actually lock the doors at school after the bell today."

Ichigo looked around. "So?"

"So, I don't know about you, but I'd rather not have to explain what I'm doing in uniform, but not at school, to Officer Hayashi."

Keigo snorted. "He's got one foot in the grave already. He lives up to his name."

"Maybe. Doesn't keep him from raising hell with Karakura Town Council."

A murmur of assent ran through the group, and they gathered their things.

Ichigo turned to Uryu, the flash brawl already faded amongst its countless brethren. "So, anything pop up on the radar?"

Uryu pushed up his glasses. "Not so far, but that's subject to change. I'll let you know."

"Nothing?"

Uryu adjusted his glasses again; he'd developed the habit as an excuse to cover his face with his hand, so to better hide his annoyance. "No, Kurosaki."

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

Ichigo shrugged. "Just wanted to know who the guy on the roof was."

Uryu Ishida whipped around to face the building across the street. He caught a glimpse of a figure on the rooftop, a man who was resting an elbow on his knee, with his foot on the rampart. He must made eye contact with Uryu, because he nodded with a small wave. The next second, he was gone.

Uryu stood curious and a little shaken. It wasn't every day that Kurosaki pulled one over on him, and for that his pride stung a little. But more disturbing was the stranger, whom he hadn't been able to sense, who was watching him and all of the people he cared about, and who didn't seem to mind being caught.

In fact, it was almost like the stranger wanted to be known.


	2. Chapter 2

DAY 0

11:54 AM

_"A friend should be one in whose understanding and virtue we can equally confide, and whose opinion we can value at once for its justness and its sincerity."_

_-Robert Hall_

**chad**

Class wasn't exactly pressing on my mind. Statistics might be vitally important when understanding the working world, but it took a backseat to the guy on the roof. Besides, I could read the chapter later, I was good at that.

I couldn't understand it. It wasn't like Ichigo to dismiss potential threats so easily. Granted, he was probably strong enough to handle himself against it…God knows he's strong enough…but every other time something similar had happened, he'd put himself on the frontline against whatever was going on. If there was a possibility of a friend in danger, he'd seek out the threat with a vengeance. Nonchalance, though, was so far removed from his normal habits that it was mind-boggling.

I glanced up at his back. He was staring out the window, idly tapping his pencil against the desk. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a miniature Ransotengai floating toward him holding a folded piece of paper. I grinned; Uryu had sent me the note about the rooftop stranger the same way. Effective, so long as no one noticed the floating jellyfish in the room.

Without looking, Ichigo casually plucked the note out of the air; freed of its anchor, the Ransotengai lazily drifted upward. Ichigo seemed to scan the note, then flipped it over and began writing on the back, occasionally checking that the Ransotengai was still within reach. When he finished, he held the paper underneath the jellyfish's tentacles, which curled around the cargo. Satisfied, he flicked it in my direction.

It was hard to be patient; this year, Ichigo sat toward the front, while I occupied my typical seat in the back. Something about my bulk obstructing other students' view. Not the first time, probably not the last. Eventually, though, the paper bumped against my nose and fell onto the desk. I slowly unfolded it to see Ichigo's handwriting.

I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier, but I wanted to keep this on the down-low. I haven't seen the guy on the roof before, so I'm trying to keep him from finding out we know he's here. Uryu's maintaining the Ransotengai for the moment, so pass this around to everyone else. Meet on the roof for lunch.

Well. This was more like him. Satisfied, I reattached the note and gently blew on the jellyfish, wafting it toward Orihime. My right hand started to tingle a bit, an animal instinct honed by many battles. Someone was going to get hurt, it was only a matter of who. I was going to make sure it was no one I cared about.


	3. Chapter 3

DAY 0

12:12 PM

_"No enterprise is more likely to succeed than one concealed from the enemy until it is ripe for execution."_

_-Niccolo Machiavelli_

Technically, it was against the rules for students to be on the roof unless instructed to do so. Technically, lunch was limited to the cafeteria, and students found elsewhere were to be sent to the guidance office for punishment. Technically, repeat offenders were to be expelled after the third incident. And technically, the weather outside meant that anyone visiting the roof would first have to go back to the lockers at the front of the school and dress in uniform coats and stockings.

Of course, the teachers saw the rooftop visits as an opportunity for students to have freedom of expression, and therefore should be encouraged as their duty as educational aides. Technically.

The group had assembled on the roof as planned; they sat chatting amiably over burgers and sandwiches. At a gesture from Chad, Mizuiro tossed him a bag of chips. Keigo tried to sneak a fry from Uryu, only to nearly lose a finger. Ichigo sat critiquing Tatsuki's more recent bouts with Orihime listening, transfixed. Nothing new, nothing that hadn't been seen before.

No one seemed to notice the large piece of black paper in the middle of the ragged circle. Thankfully, though, that was the idea.

_Any sign of our new friend?_

White letters scrawled themselves across the sheet; Uryu shifted to touch it.

_None so far._

Keigo reached out a hand.

The paper was an invention by Kisuke Urahara; his name for it (with apologies to Doctor Who), "psychic paper." If someone had a specific message at the fore of their mind, the paper would absorb and replicate it, essentially allowing written communication at ten times the speed. Useful if you wanted to keep quiet and send a message at the same time.

No time for this, Keigo, thought Ichigo, shooting his friend a glare. There was a limited amount of space on the paper before it wiped itself clean, and none of it could be spared on Keigo's attempts at humor.

Keigo met Ichigo's gaze unruffled as the message appeared before him.

_I just thought I'd let you know, Chizuru just texted me. She wants to know where Orihime is._

Ichigo suppressed a groan. Chizuru Honsho was a longtime friend of Orihime, although in more recent years, the term "friend" was a polite way of putting it in Chizuru's case. Somewhere along the line, she'd gotten it in her head that Orihime was her destined lover, and spent days on end trying to fulfill her various fantasies, much to Tatsuki's chagrin.

To make matters worse, while Chizuru was spiritually aware, she'd been left in the dark as to the man on the roof. It wasn't anything personal, really; Ichigo just knew her too well. In a tense situation, Chizuru tended to lock up. She would become a liability if worst came to worst.

_How long do we have, Keigo?_

Ichigo held his breath as he watched and waited.

_I'd give it no more than thirty seconds._

This time, the groan was audible around the entire circle. Alright, Ichigo, think. He reached for the paper.

_Okay, Uryu, take down the mine at the door. Chad, on point. Keigo and Mizuiro, stay at the door and take care of Chizuru when she makes it up. Everyone else, original plan._

That ought to do it, thought Ichigo. A response formed in front of him before anyone moved.

_Good plan. How did the first part go again?_

Ichigo was inches away from leaping to Keigo and pummeling him when he noticed that Keigo's hand was nowhere near the page.

"Who just sent that?"

He hadn't meant to speak; the words had come out involuntarily. The sudden sound seemed to startle everyone else, and for a moment they were confused as to his meaning. As their eyes found the paper, looks of bewilderment slowly hardened into wariness.

Someone was with them.

"ORIHIME-CHAN!"

The door nearly blew off its hinges as Chizuru flew through the air, her jacket only halfway on her slight frame.

For everyone gathered, the world slowed to a crawl.

Uryu, too late in removing the tripwire, lunged forward with his hand outstretched, hoping he could dissolve it in time.

With his left arm, Chad swept Keigo and Mizuiro behind him, black-and-red armor swirling around his right.

Ichigo leapt to his feet grasping over his shoulder for a sword hilt that did not exist, hoping to sever the tripwire that would be Chizuru's undoing.

A triangular golden field appeared in front of Orihime and Tatsuki.

All of this in a split second, and none of it enough. As Chizuru stepped forward, her foot caught on a shining blue string, not more than a hair's breadth but strong as a steel wire. Without ever fully realizing it, she began to fall toward the spot where Uryu had placed his spirit mine only minutes before.

A wordless cry formed in every throat as they all watched a friend on a collision course with death. Mizuiro was somehow the first to move, dodging Chad's arm and throwing himself toward her with a cry.

He was thrown onto his back by the shockwave as the mine detonated.

Ichigo's ears were ringing as he picked Mizuiro up off the ground. The small boy was limp, his eyes staring blankly ahead. Later, Ichigo would wonder why his friend was so deeply disturbed by what he had seen.

For now, though, all he thought to do was push on. The explosion had not been small; any moment now, spectators would be gathering. Chizuru would have to be grieved later.

A moment of silence gripped the gathered. Through her shield, tears could be seen in Orihime's eyes, while Tatsuki looked as though she regretted not saying more to bolster Chizuru in the past. Uryu had his head hung in bitter shame. Keigo didn't seem to have quite taken it in yet; his mouth hung open and his eyes were as wide as saucers. Chad's face was inscrutable, as normal. Had it not been for the absolute stillness in the way he stood, you'd think nothing had happened at all.

"Come on, guys. There's nothing we can do now."

Ichigo's voice was unnaturally loud, but it did the trick. Slowly, everyone turned to him and gave signs of consent. Mentally, he sighed. Getting down was going to be a problem, as the door had been blown to hell. Maybe Uryu could create his reishi elevator around the backside of the school…

But before he could plan much more, a voice rang out.

"That's not entirely true."

Ichigo snapped up and turned.

"You could say hello."

In front of them was Chizuru. Her expression was stunned, thankfully; the blast seemed to have disoriented her.

Otherwise, she would have been pitching a fit over being held by Sosuke Aizen.


	4. Chapter 4

DAY 0

12:16 PM

_"Appearances can be deceiving."_

_-Aesop_

**uryu**

In the whole of my life, I don't think I've ever been as shell-shocked as I was to see a sworn enemy standing in front of me. Thankfully, neither have I ever reacted as fast. It came as almost a surprise to me to see Ginrei Kojaku out and fully drawn.

So many thoughts were crashing through my mind, clawing for dominance. For one thing, Aizen couldn't be here. He'd been sent to the lowest possible level of Soul Society imprisonment. I'd personally seen him bound by unbreakable restraints, leaving only his mouth and eye uncovered. How in the hell had he managed to escape?

But these thoughts could wait. Around me, the others had entered their various battle positions, complete with Asano crying like a little girl behind Inoue's newly erected shield.

Kurosaki, on the other hand, was staring slack-jawed at the stranger. Not even in Soul Reaper form.

I was on the verge of yelling at him to snap the hell out of it when I caught Inoue's eye. She was terrified, holding her arms out around the group of humans behind her. A motherly instinct, to be sure. She wanted to protect the others, the defenseless, from the man who had torn her life apart with a few casual words. And to think that she hadn't actually been hurt by him…

And then it clicked. If Orihime was chilled to see a man who had only ever spoken to her, Ichigo had to be facing hell. He'd actually fought this man and his army. He'd died twice doing it. He'd sacrificed so much, even the power to protect that he held so dear. Was it any wonder that he couldn't move?

All this thought, in less time than it takes to blink. That's one of the handy features of thinking, it doesn't take very long. At least, not for me.

"Put me down, you perv!" Honsho's voice reclaimed my attention. She was comically beating on Aizen's chest, which only seemed to amuse him. Figures.

"Easy there, babe. You never want to hurt the guy holding you, he might drop you."

There was something incredibly wrong here. Aizen, who for all intents and purposes was dead, was standing holding a human, and neither of them were suffering any sort of harm, when last time he could vaporize civilians with his presence. He'd need the same level of power or greater to escape, wouldn't he? Still, if any of us so much as twitched, we could be sure that Honsho's head would no longer face the front. A Mexican standoff, in the worst possible fashion.

"DON'T YOU SPOUT SHIT, AIZEN, YOU MISERABLE SON OF A BITCH!"

He had just enough time to emit a confused "What?" before Honsho's fist connected solidly with his cheek and sent him flying, with me following in his wake. His casual humor from earlier proved true, though. The instant he stopped supporting her, she fell. The two of them had their motions arrested around the same time; Aizen by the roof tiles, Honsho by a black-clad Kurosaki. Nice timing, idiot.

With undisguised menace, Kurosaki drew his blade from over his shoulder and rested it against Aizen's throat. Aizen himself seemed groggy from the unexpected blow, but the touch of cold steel woke him up quickly enough. In a fit of panic, he threw his hands up in the air.

"Draw down, draw down! I'm not Aizen!"

My first impulse was to scoff, but then a few dots connected. Aizen would have definitely needed a massive amount of power to escape his prison, be it from himself or assistants. He would definitely not face the man who defeated him without that power at hand, which it was clearly not; not only was Honsho unharmed from prolonged contact with the stranger, she had been able to knock him out with one hit. And in all the encounters I'd heard of with Aizen, he'd only ever lost his composure submitting to rage. Fear was alien to him, and thus an unlikely reaction.

The biggest sign, though, was that I doubted Aizen even had the word "babe" in his vocabulary.

"He's telling the truth, Kurosaki."

Kurosaki turned to me with a look of disgust. "Is that another Quincy power? Mind-reading?"

I pushed up my glasses, taking relish in the nonverbal expletive I sent his way. "Merely using the one thing you lack, a brain."

The fact that I was insulting him in such a tense situation served only to impress upon him that I was right, as I knew it would. Looking down, he sheathed his blade and offered a hand to the stranger. "No hard feelings."

"None taken." The stranger grinned as he accepted the assistance in standing. "I'd've been disappointed if you took me in automatically."

Upon further investigation, differences between him and Aizen were pronounced. The hair was longer and much shaggier, as if he had just woken up. Its color was a slightly lighter brown, with hints of blond and red interwoven. His eyes were blue-grey rather than brown, and his dress was casually teenage; jeans, sneakers, a dull grey V-neck T-shirt, a black pea coat and matching fingerless gloves. There was no sign of any kind of weapon on him, although experience had taught me that didn't always count for something.

"So, just who the hell are you, anyway?" Direct as always, Kurosaki had left one hand on Zangetsu's hilt even while sheathing it. The stranger noticed this and smiled.

"Can't be too careful, eh?" He spoke so easily as to be careless, the same attitude showing in his body language. He extended a hand. "David Michael."

Ichigo looked at this gesture warily; to accept would mean taking letting go of his weapon. Noticing this, the stranger grew somewhat abashed, and withdrew his hand to bow in the Japanese fashion. Impressive.

"What are you doing watching us, Michael?"

"David, please. I'm doing my job."

"What's that?"

"Can't say, sorry."

"Who gave it to you?"

"I did. I don't take orders well."

"Why us?"

"Because you're important."

Ichigo's grip tightened. "Why?"

"I honestly don't know yet."

They considered each other for a moment, then Ichigo slowly let go of Zangetsu's hilt. Michael smiled. "I assume that means I passed?"

"For now."

"Great. Does that mean the loaded gun can be taken off my head?"

From the moment I'd seen Michael, my arrow had never been more than eighteen inches from his ear.

"Back off, Uryu."

I collapsed Ginrei Kojaku and took a step back as Chad relaxed, dissolving his armor. I was still curious. "You're American?"

Michael turned his smile on me. "Nope. Just hung out there a lot. Love the lifestyle, hate the economy."

I digested this. "Why can't you tell us what you were doing?"

"Because I don't really know either. All I know is, your names crop up a lot in spiritual circles, and I wanted to see for myself. I guess I was making you out, in a way."

"What for?" Chad's deep rumble turned Michael yet again.

"I'm looking for someone. Don't really know who, but I'll know when I see them."

Asano scoffed. "So you stalk us to ask for help finding a needle in a haystack. I've got better things to do."

Michael held up his hands in surrender. "Hey, hey, I screwed up here. I'm not going to ask for much now. Just…" He looked around. "Does anyone have a place I could crash for tonight? I didn't have time to make reservations in town."

Inoue had been listening intently all the while, and it was her lack of reaction that had spurred us all to believe Michael's story. Out of all of us, she had the most acute sense of when someone was being deceptive. Now she stepped up. "I wouldn't mind—"

But Kurosaki stepped in. "You're staying with me." Of course, it made the most sense. He was easily the strongest of all of us, and this stranger needed watching.

"Thanks, bro." Michael looked genuinely relieved to hear this; he even moved to embrace Kurosaki, but a movement toward Zangetsu stopped him cold. He looked around. "Well, it looks like a war zone up here…" He moved toward the rubble that was the door. "Better clean up, eh?"

He held out his hand and murmured an inaudible incantation. His palm glowed briefly, and then the chunks of concrete picked themselves up and mended back into place. In a few moments, the roof looked the same as it always had.

Even I was dumbstruck. Asano moved over to the open door and poked it with a finger, jumping back with a squeak when it didn't fall to bits. As the others filed through, Inoue stopped Michael to ask a question I'd forgotten somehow.

"Why did you cloak your presence?"

Michael looked sheepish. "I didn't want to freak you guys out by suddenly appearing out of nowhere to watch you. Great plan, right?"

Inoue looked confused. "But you weren't bothered by being noticed. You wanted to be noticed."

At this, Michael laughed. "Well, yeah, eventually. Sure as hell not like this, though. I wasn't planning on being made, I just played it off really well. I'm really good at making it look like I know what I'm doing."

Inoue seemed to accept this explanation, and she bounced down the stairs without further ado. I followed Michael warily. He certainly noticed, just as he had all the other subtle signs. Whoever he was, he was no stranger to combat, no matter how he tried to hide it. He paid too much attention. I resolved to do the same regarding his actions.


	5. Chapter 5

DAY 0

12:34 PM

_"I claim there ain't_

_ Another Saint_

_ As great as Valentine."_

_ -Ogden Nash_

Ichigo's day was not going well.

Quick recap:

Stranger appeared out of nowhere.

Stranger conveniently skipped out of a complicated trap set up just for him, nearly getting one of Ichigo's friends killed and blowing up half the school in the process.

Stranger appeared to be Sosuke Aizen. Heart attacks and brown trousers for all.

Stranger wasn't not really Aizen, meaning earlier panicking was unnecessary and therefore humiliating.

Stranger was really a drifter who calls himself David Michael.

Michael admitted to having ulterior motive, but won't say what it is.

Michael fixed the school in under five seconds, proving he's capable of much more.

Michael claimed he needs to mooch off someone else's hospitality after his grand entrance. Reason dictates that this is an opportunity to gather reconnaissance, so Ichigo volunteered against his better judgement.

And the best part:

When Ichigo walked into homeroom, Michael was standing at the front of class being introduced by the teacher as a "transfer student." Ichigo ground his teeth. Would that tired old lie ever end?

Michael smiled sheepishly as he ran a finger around the collar of his school uniform (another thing-how in the hell had he gotten a school uniform?). "It's good to meet everyone," he said politely, bowing. "Sorry to drop in unannounced."

He was looking at Ichigo as he said this; Ichigo brushed off the apology with a fiercer scowl than usual. This bastard wasn't off the hook, not by a long shot.

"You seem to have come at the perfect time, Mr. Michael." Misato Ochi, on the other hand, was instantly taken in by the stranger. "We happen to be having our Valentine's Day celebration today!"

Ichigo blinked; in all the ruckus, he'd completely forgotten the fight from this morning. Not that all that lovey-dovey crap was high on his list of priorities, anyway.

"Sounds perfect." Michael's smile held a genuine fondness. "Love is in the air; my kind of environment."

Inwardly, Ichigo groaned. One more reason for Michael to get on his nerves.

"Ah, you're a romantic!" Mrs. Ochi was beside herself. "Well, it turns out that we are holding our celebrations a bit differently this year. The students anonymously placed their gifts in prearranged bags for each member of class. This way, no one knows who their Valentine is!"

"Really?" Michael's face was thoughtful. "That's interesting."

"Isn't it?" The teacher beamed. "Now, I'm sorry, but since you only just joined, there's no bag for you. However, if you wouldn't mind helping me to pass them out..." She gestured to a huge basket filled with paper bags on her desk.

"It would be my pleasure." Michael replied, taking the basket in his arms. Ochi clapped her hands in delight; now she could enjoy the looks on her students' faces without having to turn her back on any of them. She returned to her desk and rested her chin in her hands, eager to see the fruits of her labor.

Michael slowly made his way around the room, asking each student's name then fumbling around in the basket for their respective gift bag. Ichigo watched his progress with eagle eyes, noting every twitch of his fingers. Fingers, he realized, that were still poking out of those wierd gloves. Ichigo's scowl deepened; what reason could he have for constantly covering his hands?

Michael came around to Ichigo's desk. "I think we're already aquainted with one another," he quipped, digging into the mass of bags for the right one. Once he found it, he handed it down to Ichigo. "Still, I think we should start off on the right f-"

Ichigo seized his wrist, causing him to nearly drop the bag. "I agree," he snarled. "Starting with why you're here."

Michael blinked. "Sorry, but I can't tell you."

"That's bullshit." Ichigo's grip tightened. "You tell me now, or this gets personal."

The stranger looked pained. "Really, Ichigo? You'll start a fight here, with all your friends around to get hurt?"

Ichigo hesitated; just for a second, but long enough for anyone to know his bluff had been called. Michael sighed and made to pull away, but Ichigo pulled him down to eye level. "I'm warning you." The malevolence in his voice was all too clear. "I will be watching you every second of every day. Do anything, to anyone, and I will kill you where you stand."

Michael smiled. "I would expect nothing less, especially from what I've heard of you, Ichigo." He let go of the bag; it landed with a soft thump on Ichigo's desk. "Although," he murmured, letting his fingers rest on Ichigo's hand, "if I may offer some guidance-"

Ichigo cut him off. "I've heard enough out of you."

Michael stared at him. Through him, almost. It was unnerving in the extreme. Ichigo had only ever met a few men who could truly intimidate him, and if he was going to be honest, the newest addition to the list didn't even seem to be trying.

"There are worse things than death, Ichigo." Michael's voice was somber and soft. "Don't forget that."  
The words penetrated Ichigo. "What the f-"

"Mr. Kurosaki!" Mrs. Ochi's sharp command made both boys start. She tapped the edge of her desk with her notebook. "I think that Mr. Michael has other duties to attend to, if you would be so kind as to let him."

Ichigo gave her his best death glare, which she somehow managed to match perfectly. With an inward sigh he let go of Michael's wrist, and a headache he hadn't felt building vanished. _What the-_

He looked up at Michael, who just shrugged and continued on to the back of the room. Now Ichigo was pissed. Michael had done something to his head when they'd touched, that was the only explanation, and it gave good reason to cover his hands on top of everything else. Just what was this guy's deal?

"And for the lovely princess of the classroom..."

Orihime's embarassed giggle pulled Ichigo out of his own head to see her blushing furiously at Michael's remark, while Michael was just smiling and handing her a bag. "I'm not a princess..." Orihime mumbled as she took it from him.

"That's what your name means, right?" Michael's grin grew. "Don't be ashamed, flaunt it a little!"

"Oh no, I could never-"

"Whatever you say, Ms. Inoue." Michael twisted the cadence of his speech so that the simple phrase came out like a cheesy little poem, which only served to make Orihime blush even deeper.

Ichigo's fingers curled around the edge of the desk. As if everything else wasn't enough, Michael was trying to put the moves on possibly the most willing victim in the room. Seriously, picking Orihime was biological warfare; completely inhumane and unfair, like offering an alcoholic 30-year-old Scotch. Just what the hell was this guy's deal?

...And where exactly had all that come from just now?

Michael handed the last bag to Chad and returned the basket to Mrs. Ochi. "Well!" she exclaimed. "Now that Cupid has finished his deliveries," (Michael winced at this remark, strangely) "let the celebrations begin!"

Ichigo groaned and dumped his bag upside down. Out tumbled an assortment of sweets and chocolates, much like what he had recieved every year since starting high school. Luckily, this was the last time this would happen for him...

Somethng new caught his eye. There was a small note wrapped around a rabbit-shaped chocolate. He unpeeled the paper from the candy and unfolded it to reveal a short sentence, barely legible at first glance. Whoever had written this had crap penmanship, that was for sure. Squinting, Ichigo was only just able to make out the words:

_Now you're a part of my collection._

One blink, and the message was still there. Two blinks, and comprehension was no closer. "What the hell?" Ichigo growled. He'd faced down Aizen without blinking, but this...this was creepy. Maybe the rabbit had something to do with it...but what? Ichigo shook his head with a sigh and looked around, hoping that at least one other person was done counting their spoils.

He caught Orihime's eye and nodded in Michael's direction, trying to say something along the lines of _You sure you trust this guy?_ To his surprise, Orihime turned bright red again. _What is going on here?_ God, how he hated this day.


End file.
